Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Norway and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Beau Brummels to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Fear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
Ponytail,
Unwound,
Drexciya,
Mad Mike,
Rufus Thomas,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Susan Cadogan,
the Bar-Kays,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Magma,
Tres Demented,
Robert Hood,
Crash Course in Science,
Animal Collective,
Minny Pops,
Bronski Beat,
Steve Hackett,
Pere Ubu,
Spoonie Gee,
Smog,
Joe Smooth,
Stockholm Monsters,
Chris & Cosey,
Radiohead,
Theoretical Girls,
Cameo,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Kurtis Blow,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Last Poets,
The Pop Group,
Todd Terry,
Thompson Twins,
The Flesh Eaters,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Fall,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Peter and Kerry,
Depeche Mode,
Mark Hollis,
Wasted Youth,
Von Mondo,
Anakelly,
The Cowsills,
FM Einheit,
Inner City,
Masters at Work,
Deakin,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Robert Görl,
Godley & Creme,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Matthew Halsall,
Scrapy,
Colin Newman,
Moss Icon,
Roxy Music,
Tom Boy,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.